She

Strands of grey and white wispy hair framed her face.
95 and a half years worth of lines creased her face, some furrowing across her forehead, some extending from the corners of her eyes, some cutting across her cheeks, others bracketing her mouth.
Brown liver spots dotted her face, some darker, other lighter, some bigger, others smaller.
Both cheeks sagged a little as if weighed down by the leathery skin covering them.
Her chest rose slightly with each breath she took.

I watched her for a little while. Snuggled up under her white blanket, lying on her side in a near-foetal position, with both hands under her head and knees drawn up towards the chest.

I touched her forehead and pushed away the strands of hair there.
I tried to smoothen the furrows on her forehead but it was as if she was pondering deeply over something even in her sleep.

Finally, she sensed that someone was there and opened her eyes. And then.
Confusion in her eyes for a split second before recognition set in.

She smiled at me. And reached out to me.

I love you Granny.